


Wild in My Veins

by Theoroark



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pop Stars, F/F, First Kiss, Some elements of magical realism, background pharmercy - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 12:24:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17488007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theoroark/pseuds/Theoroark
Summary: Sombra joins the mysterious girl group Black Lilly, and receives a warning: don't go after Amélie.-Inspired by K/DA POP/STARS, though not wholly based off it.





	Wild in My Veins

Sombra is new to Black Lilly. Ashe Recording Company had planned for her to have a solo rap career, not bubblegum pop. But when Elizabeth Ashe was photographed with an executive from a rival company and some cocaine, the label had dropped her like the dead weight she was. The executives tell Sombra she’s a better fit anyway. They do seem genuinely relieved she signed, though she doesn’t know how much of that is admiration or desperation or the belief that she’ll be easier to control than Elizabeth, who was born and raised in the business. 

 

Sombra’s content to go along with the label’s wishes for now, but she plans on disappointing in the last aspect. She may be new but she’s been watching, because there’s something different about Black Lilly, something she intends to make the most of. She’s studied the group’s histories, interviews, paparazzi photos, and press junkets like the one she’s at now. So when a reporter stands up and asks the group, “What do you look for in a partner?” she knows what the reaction from the pit will be– some nervous laughter, some eye rolls, it’s a bit tacky, a bit forward– and she’s got a pretty good idea how her fellow group members will answer. 

 

Satya’s the good girl of the group. She wants a woman who’s kind, honest, an equal and a partner. Fareeha’s the artist, the soulful creative. She gives some flowery answer about a real connection, a girl who feels like coming home. 

 

Amélie, though, is the bad girl. And her romantic history is infamous, her husband died in cloudy circumstances and a handful of people linked to her have gone missing sense. The room suddenly becomes much more tense, but Sombra couldn’t be happier. She’s watched Amélie answer this question before, and it’s always different, frequently more cutting towards the person who asked the question than revealing of herself. Sombra shifts forward in her chair in anticipation, trying to hide her smile. 

 

Amélie leans in towards the microphone. She taps the rim of her pink-tinted glasses. “Well,” she says. “I suppose what I want is… someone interesting.”

 

The man who asked the question frowns. “I’m not sure what you mean by that?” he asks. Amélie pins him in a withering stare. 

 

“No,” she says. “I can’t imagine you would.”

 

The man shrinks down. Sombra covers her mouth with her hand, desperately trying not to grin. The room is uncomfortably silent, and then Fareeha looks over at Sombra. 

 

Right. She still has to answer. She’s the funny one, she’s supposed to say something about liking spicy food or playing video games with her or whatever the hell. 

 

But she’s smiling when she drops her hand. She looks over at Amélie and says, “I’m looking for something new.”

 

-

 

Angela usually debriefs with them after they meet with the press, but Fareeha’s little speech must have spoken to her, because she’s distracted enough kissing her that Sombra’s able to sneak out. She has her own dressing room, thankfully, and she collapses onto the cream leather sofa and closes her eyes. Amélie had blinked, then looked away. She hadn’t spoken to her after they had walked off stage. Sombra’s a flirt, not a jerk. She doesn’t want to keep pushing if it’s not wanted. 

 

“I was looking for you.” Sombra opens her eyes. So she’s still getting a talking to. Just by Angela’s other half. 

 

“You seemed busy,” Sombra says, and Fareeha sighs and sits down next to her. 

 

Fareeha may be the artist in the group, but offstage she’s iron. It’s her vision that made the group in every way and dreams alone don’t do that. So she doesn’t dance around things with Sombra, she cuts right to the chase. “You shouldn’t go after Amélie,” she says. 

 

“Who said I was?” Fareeha rolls her eyes and sits down next to her. “Well, who said it had to be a big deal, anyway?”

 

Fareeha folds her arms. “Come on, Sombra. You know how this industry works.” Sombra keeps her face neutral, because Fareeha doesn’t have to know she knows. “Two members of an all star girl group hooking up? The tabloids will be all over that, and they’ll make everything so much worse when you break up.”

 

At that, Sombra scowls. She might not be sure she’s even still pursuing this Amélie thing, but damn, it’s still an option, and so– “How do you know we’re going to break up?”

 

“It’s Amélie,” Fareeha says, and Sombra can tell the ice in her voice isn’t aimed at her. “You’ll break up. And it’ll be bad when you do.”

 

“You think I’ll end up buried in the woods then, or something?”

 

Fareeha winces and Sombra has to keep herself from grinning again. “I’m sure all of that is exaggerated,” she says. “The press is ridiculous. But I was around her during those breakups, though. And I saw how heartless she was to those people. How quickly she moved on.” She puts a hand on Sombra’s shoulder. “I like you both, Sombra. But I know how she is and I don’t think the two of you would work out. I’m just trying to look out for you guys.”

 

Sombra slouches down on the sofa, letting Fareeha’s hand fall off her. “I wish you had had Angela do this instead,” she says. “She’s just as bad a liar as you, but she’s funnier in how she does it. You’re just… bad.”

 

Fareeha sighs again, longer and louder now. “Fine,” she says. “I don’t like Amélie, and I don’t trust her. But I don’t want to go looking for another replacement. For either of you. So,” Fareeha stands up. “You shouldn’t go after Amélie.”

 

Sombra says nothing, and remains mostly reclined on the sofa, her feet up on the table. It’s partly obstinance and partly that Fareeha is iron, and when she gets in a certain place, whether it’s writing songs or talking about someone she hates, Sombra can almost feel the power rolling off of her, and it’s suffocating. That, Sombra did not know, and did not expect. 

 

Fareeha doesn’t seem to know it either, though. She just looks tired when Sombra doesn’t respond. She sighs one last time, then leaves. Sombra takes out her phone and scrolls through her twitter feed aimlessly. She stops when she lands on an instagram link Amélie posted, five or so minutes ago. She clicks through, and sucks in a breath when she sees the post. 

 

It’s a Lamborghini Huracán, shiny neon blue, wide and low, looking out of place in the shitty garage lighting. The caption reads simply, “A new addition to my collection.”

 

Sombra gets up and crosses the hall. Fareeha’s nowhere in sight, Sombra assumes she and Angela are thoroughly distracted by now. Sombra knocks on Amélie’s door, and after a minute, it opens. 

 

“Yes?” Amélie says. Sombra holds up her phone. 

 

“I like your car,” she says. “How fast can it go?” Amélie grins.

 

“Why don’t we find out?”

 

-

 

Sombra had not meant her question literally, but Amélie evidently took it as such. It’s not the most relaxing experience, whipping around the hairpin turns of the coastal road fast enough to kick up smoke from the tires. Sombra’s come too far and worked to hard to die in such a juvenile way. 

 

But Amélie’s an excellent driver, taking them around corners at breakneck speeds with uncanny reflexes. And she has a wide, giddy smile on her face, the kind Sombra’s never seen her wear before. That makes it some kind of worth it. 

 

“This is more a warmup than anything,” Amélie says. She has to raise her voice to be heard over the revving engine. “I won’t be able to get anywhere close to top speed until we find a straightaway.” Sombra nods. 

 

“This is fine,” she says. Amélie laughs, and Sombra can tell it’s not a response to what she had said, just simple joy at the screech of tires and ocean in the distance. Sombra smiles and leans back. 

 

They don’t reach a straightaway as they climb, but they do reach the high point of the cliffs. There’s an observation deck and Amélie pulls in and parks right along the railing. She leans out to look at the road to come, perilously far out. Sombra’s just seen how unnaturally good Amélie’s reflexes are, but she still has to bite her lip in an effort not to grab Amélie’s hips and ground her. 

 

“I’m not sure we’ll find a piece of this road long enough,” Amélie says– leaning back as she does, mercifully. “When the road gets straight again, there’s some dinky little town. I don’t think we’d have a clear shot.” Sombra shrugs. 

 

“There’s probably like a race track or somewhere you could try that out, right?” She leans back against the hood of the car, then yelps and jumps up when she finds it’s quite hot. 

 

“Careful,” Amélie says, and Sombra glares at her as she pats the back edge of her black leather shorts. Amélie leans up against the railing and after a moment, Sombra does as well. They’re silent for a while. Sombra glances over at her. Amélie’s still just in the black minidress and dark pink feather boa she was wearing during the press junket. 

 

“Are you cold?” Sombra asks. She’s wearing a leather jacket and she’s cold, but the ocean wind is whipping at their backs and the sun is going down. She could stand to be a bit colder. Amélie shakes her head though. 

 

“I don’t feel it,” she says. Sombra nods and they’re silent again. 

 

Their backs are to the ocean, which Sombra supposes is the scenic view this observatory is here for, but frankly, she’s fine with not having to ponder that. The ocean is deep and dangerous and utterly uncontrollable. She’s never been much of a fan. The worn asphalt and stubby California grass they’re staring at isn’t exactly pretty. But it’s solid under her feet. She likes that. 

 

Amélie breaks the silence first. “You’re funny,” she says. Sombra blinks and glances over at her. 

 

“Oh yeah?” she says. Amélie doesn’t respond. Sombra turns back to the grass and asphalt. “That’s what I’m here for,” she says, and with that, Amélie chuckles. 

 

“That’s what I mean,” she says. “Funny. I like that about you.” Now Sombra doesn’t respond, because she’s not quite sure that’s what she wants Amélie to like about her. But then Amélie’s getting off the railing and taking up her field of vision. “It’s nice. Having someone else here who knows what’s going on.” 

 

Amélie’s feet are almost in between her own. Sombra’s very aware of the deep, dark ocean at her back. She stands upright, and Amélie takes a step back. “What is going on?” Sombra asks. 

 

Amélie takes off her pink tinted glasses and tucks them into the neckline of her dress. Sombra congratulates herself on keeping her eyes on her face. “We’re not just making music,” Amélie says. “We’re not just making the Ashe family money. There’s something different going on here. My husband warned me, but you didn’t need that, did you? I know you know it.” She stops talking and waits for Sombra. When Sombra nods, she continues. “And I like you, because you know it without being told. The others don’t. But you do. You’re funny. I like that about you.”

 

The sunset has started in earnest, the dried out grass is glowing red and the Huracán’s windshield is reflecting blinding pink into her eyes. It’s gotten colder and the winds have picked up but Sombra doesn’t care. She leans up and kisses Amélie. Amélie’s hands go to her hips as Sombra reaches up and cups her face. Amélie deepens the kiss and they take stumbling steps backwards until Amélie’s bare thighs hit the hood of the car. Sombra breaks off the kiss and opens her mouth. 

 

“I’m fine,” Amélie says, before she can asks. “I don’t feel it at all.” And Sombra kind of doubts that but then Amélie’s kissing her again, soft and slow, and all she knows is that this is new and this is interesting. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm @tacticalgrandma on tumblr/twitter if you want to talk to me there!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, and any comments/kudos would mean the world to me <3


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